Chapter 1

Ingénieur de diplôme de troisième classe Anton, Baron De' Vaux or De'vrole ... depending on who one is conversing ... was lost. It had seemed to him that the best way to find the new, as yet unfinished, Scarpe supérieure canal, was to follow the excavation.

The new waterway ran from Arras to Corbehem where it would join the Canal de la Sensée and then changed names again and became the Canal de Dérivation de la Scarpe.

Farther down stream the Canal attached yet another name; Canal d'Aire. This guise it wore until the name Canal d'Aire à la Bassée was blessed upon it.

Some few miles closer to the sea the waterway became the Canal de Neuffossé, such pretension... Canal de Neuffossé. Then the name became L'Aa (Fleuve Canalisé).

At the split, L'Aa went left to the sea and the Canal de la Haute Colme went right.

All this he knew when the Bureau of Waterways, Department of Transportation, hired him to assist Professor Lafete with the mathematics.

It was mid summer 1888.

Mounting his favorite hunter at midnight he posted away from home and began the search. The diggings were where it was suggested they would be found ... but ... which way should he take to find the Professor?

"Alors!" he exclaimed. "I am lost."

Gesticulating in the French manner he suggested to his horse that she was responsible for his predicament. Pausing in his harangue, he bethought his grandfathers watch.

Bestowed on him during the event of his graduation from University, it was a prize heirloom. Retrieving it from his watch pocket he popped open the hunter case and stared at the dial. There was just enough light to read it.

"Mon Dieu! I am of the latest. Late is no way to impress your new employer, Anton." He closed the hunter case and put the watch away.

A pocket watch without a chain is soon lost and this watch was no exception. Anton was sure he had bestowed it in the proper pocket ... he was wrong. He missed. The falling watch made no sound in the soft dirt.

He directed the mare at the canal embankment, scrambling up in the Grand Style, he headed for the first light he saw.

Banging the knocker, he perceived a light moving in a stately manner. The door swung open,

"Yes?" enquired the majordome.

"I am seeking the present excavations of the new canal," Anton said. "If you would be so good... ?"

A light step on the stair ... a vision of loveliness, "Who is it, Armand?"

"A gentleman, Mademoiselle," said the man. "He seems to be lost."

It was love at first fluster ... and fluster they did. That Anton Baron De' Vaux or De'vrole had met the angel of his dreams has no further bearing on the tale. One does wonder...

Archie Campbell, also late, was shuffling along the excavation. He had new boots. The fit was French and he was a Londoner through and through. His feet hurt.

Scuffling his feet in the manner which his mother had hounded him about during his few school years he scattered loose dirt from the excavation. Scattered it far and wide. Scattered it sufficiently so as to cover the watch. A clod ... the stem ... and the trap was armed.

The canal was opened in the Grande Manière. Dignitaries from Paris and Arras attended in style. The cutting, the gates, the water. The water had a great distance; almost 18 miles. It crept, and eventually flooded the excavation ... the locks were tested and the first barge made the trip from Arras to the sea.

The watch waited.